


paying homage

by Gildedstorm



Category: Claymore
Genre: Gen, abyssal ones just hanging out, which by yoma standards is always on the edge of conflict
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-03-01 23:47:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2792111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gildedstorm/pseuds/Gildedstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They stand alone and infinite, hungers as deep as the void. But there have always been three. The Abyssal Ones, and their cautious, edged encounters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. beacons

An awakening was much like seeing a fire sputter into life, clumsy and bright and warm with power. This one, however, was a beacon, so bright it tainted the air with yoki. Isley faced into the west and breathed it in. It tasted of blood, as most did – as his had, seething with contempt while he scattered those before him – but the tracery of yoki was delicate, twining together with a grace he hadn’t encountered before in an Awakened Being. It was familiar, and renewed.

So he went westward to meet with her.

“You do not have to go this far,” Rigardo said stiffly as they walked past felled trees, some splintered at the base but most cut cleanly through. Isley admired the scope of it. She had reached far, to destroy so much of the surrounding area. Tactless, too, to leave so much damage, but subtlety was beyond everyone at first.

“If you’re going to follow me around like this, you might as well stop criticizing my decisions,” he said easily. There was a huff behind him, and then silence again, cold and unyielding. It was a little funny, really. They had all changed so much, grown so far beyond their limits – but in the end, they also had barely changed at all.

As expected, she was in the centre of the devastation, a mass of tendrils – or ribbons, he thought, seeing the precise way they twined around each other, crisp and elegant as if they hadn’t been stabbed through a warrior’s body. They all retracted now, settling around her like a gown, and she turned to them and smiled, the expression a shallow courtesy. Isley smiled back, gauging her reach and staying back. H didn’t know how fast she was yet, and her power filled the clearing, too close to his own for him to make any sudden decisions. Rigardo and Dauf were bonfires in comparison, bright and distinct enough, but dwarfed by the two of them. So, recognizing that, he stopped paying too much attention to him – not when Riful was a very possible threat.

“Oh, Isley.” Her voice rippled, breathy and echoing before shifting into a more human tone, reminding him of the cheerful girl that had introduced herself to him so long ago. They had been comrades, then. They were not now. And then, with a little more feeling, “You brought someone along too, I see.”

“Hello, Riful,” he said, his smile widening a little as behind him, Rigardo growled low in his throat. Dauf, lurking behind Riful’s net of a body, glowered back at him.

Yes, things never really did change.

“Are you here to fight me?” she asked, rearranging herself without a trace of nervousness.

“I’m here to greet you,” he said with a shrug. She considered that for a moment, and then flowed downward, seamlessly taking on her own human form, dark-haired and slimmer, frailer than he had ever seen her. She was naked, and smeared with blood that she absently wiped away from her mouth. “You changed your hair,” he noted.

“You didn’t,” she shot back, wrapping the ragged cloak Dauf had scrounged up around her shoulders. “How come?”

“Ah… I didn’t feel like it. It looks nice.”

“It makes you look like an old man,” she said, pouting, but the expression was just as shallow as her smile. “Are you really only here to greet me?”

“Why not? You’re the first Number One since me to awaken. That’s a little special.” She was still studying him, dark eyes too sharp for that young, innocent face, so he added, “I had nothing better to do anyways. But now that I’m done here, I’m going to go north.” There was something about the mountains and snowfields, emptiness that killed and a wind that could no longer touch him, that drew him as surely as a lodestone.

“North… there’s nothing up there but snow and rocks,” she mused, daintily propping her chin on her hand.

“Something like that.”

“We’ll stay here – won’t we, Dauf?” She reached up to pat his arm, and then smoothly kept talking over the beginning of a rumbled agreement. “You’re really going to just leave someone like me alone?” She tilted her head, lacing her fingers together and widening her eyes.

“Well….” He considered the two of them, Dauf looming behind her and yet utterly inconsequential. A Number One and Three – but he had experience, and Rigardo had been Two, in their day. “It wouldn’t be fair to defeat you so soon, would it? Go enjoy yourself, eat something.” Her expression faltered for just an instant, spite and suspicion flashing across her face, and then Riful was all innocent smiles again.

“I suppose the world is big enough for the two of us, isn’t it?”

“We’ll have to see. Come on, Rigardo.” For a moment, as he turned his back, he was certain she would strike at him – but she settled back on the ground instead, legs crossed and eyes narrowing. They disappeared from her sight soon enough, though she felt the trace of his passage for a long time afterwards, a chill in the air that wasn’t quite tangible.

“That man is dangerous,” she murmured, for Dauf’s ears alone. “But now so are we.”


	2. comets

“How much further, Riful?”

“What, you can’t tell? It’s just up ahead!”

“Right….”

Riful sighed and blew a strand of hair away from her face. Traveling this far east was unusual for them, and Dauf didn’t handle changes well, though he’d complained a little less than she might have expected. Their territory would be fine without them for a few days, and besides, this was… well, perhaps it was a little expected. She could blame that man of the north for starting this, but  _she_ wasn’t going to prove she had worse manners than he did.

And she was a little curious to see the one who had halved the Organization’s forces with her awakening. The eastern lands, normally patrolled more strictly by Claymores to keep the Organization protected, were quiet today, and empty of yoki.

Except, of course, that one oppressively powerful one just a little distance away. By this point, she was sure to have noticed them – even with Riful stifling her own power, Dauf gave their presence away. He didn’t have the subtlety, or the control, to hide himself half as well. Well, you couldn’t expect too much of an oaf, could you?

But she so hated the brutal, upfront approach he was good at, so it all balanced out.

“Visitors so soon? I’m not quite ready for company,” their quarry said, stepping out from the shelter of the trees, and Dauf grunted, tensing up. Riful ignored that and walked past him, head tilted to one side. Luciela had found a dress somewhere, and had already cleaned off the blood from her slaughter. Her human form was older than her own, taller and a little less frail-looking – but then, focusing on physical appearances was useless, at this point.

“You must be the third! It’s so good to meet you, you know. It’s been quite some time since a Number One awakened. You’re Luciela, right?”

Luciela stared at her, clearly suspicious, but smiled back at last, a faintly mocking curve of her lips. “Empress Riful of the West. What an honour to meet an Abyssal One – though I suppose we’re equals now.”

“Something like that,” she agreed lightly, while Dauf stirred beside her.

“And that thing is…?” Luciela asked, only glancing at him and then away.

Riful smiled at her sweetly, twining her fingers together and stretching her hands in a long, idle motion. Her hair spilled down her back, reaching the ground and flowing out around them to encircle her, sharpening as it went. “You should still mind your manners, you know,” she said chidingly. “That is my consort, Dauf. Only I get to speak of him like that.”

Luciela eyed the ribbons closing in on her and smoothed down her dress, smile fading a little. “Forgive my harsh words, then. I was surprised to see you with someone like him.”

“Well, you’re young yet. You might understand when you’re older,” Riful told her, and made an attempt to hide her triumph when that earned her a scowl, quickly masked by that scornful smile again.

“I’ll have to take your word for it. But if you’re here… is the White Silver King coming as well?” She sounded less than pleased about that possibility.

“Oh, Isley? No, I don’t think so. His feet might have frozen to the ground, maybe, and that’s why he didn’t bother coming,” she said with a shrug. “It’s better that way. He’s an overbearing man.” Overbearing and, no matter the situation, always more than a little stronger than her. Age counted a great deal amongst Awakened Beings, and he was the oldest left alive.

He likely always would be. That thought left a sour taste in her mouth, but at least they both kept well away from each other.

“So, what are you going to do now?” she asked, well aware that Luciela was studying her openly again, brown eyes narrowed.

“Isn’t that what you’re here for? To tell me?” she shot back with a shrug.

“Oh, of course not! I  _do_ have a few suggestions, but I want to hear out your ideas first,” she assured her.

“I want to go back to the Organization,” she said, the words dropping like sharp-edged stones, and then her eyes widened. “My sister – Rafaela –” She broke off, yoki crackling in the air as her eyes turned gold, and Dauf stepped closer, reflexively raising his own in answer.

“Riful… this isn’t…”

“Wait just a little,” she told him brightly. “We’ll be fine.” A sister? Riful dimly remembered having one once, but that memory was distant now, a remnant of a life she’d long since left behind. Awakening healed most wounds, even ones of the heart – and the scars that remained faded over, given enough time. “Luciela,” she began, and she jerked around to face her again, anticipating an attack. “Ah, going back would be a bad idea, don’t you think? In this state… it’d be such a shame if you killed her, wouldn’t it?” She leaned forward as she said it, eyes wide and earnest, doing her best to not react to the display. It was hard not to answer power with power, but she wasn’t young and reckless anymore, after all.

Luciela stared back at her, eyes wild and angry and unseeing, and then slowly settled again, power coiling inward again, sharpened features smoothing back over into something more human. “You might be right. It seems I could do with some time to myself, still,” she said, and tried for that mocking expression again, now so deliberately casual that Riful wondered why she bothered. Perhaps she was just too proud to dispense with it. “So you have the west, and Isley the north… the only place left for me is the south.”

“We’ll have problems once we get a fourth,” Riful said, and Luciela smirked.

“Or we could take everything for ourselves, then.”

“Maybe,” she mused. “Maybe we could.”


	3. burn it down

There were, it seemed, good reasons for the three of them to stay separate.

It took three days for Isley to show himself, and by the time he did, Luciela almost regretted even bothering. Riful had started making pointed comments on leaving Dauf behind and while she couldn't grasp what she _saw_ in that solid block of muscle, it would have at least distracted them both from idly comparing their power. Except it had become less idle, after three days together.

But no, she had wanted a meeting as equals, and she had committed herself to it. At the very least, they probably wouldn't kill each other for a few more hours.

But finally, Isley arrived, striding through the streets without even looking around at the town they had settled in – a little _emptier_ now than it had been when they first chose it as their meeting spot. Journeys did a great deal to stir up the appetite, after all. They sensed him the moment he set foot in the town, of course. Riful slipped down from the table where she'd perched herself, sighing. “Oh, _finally_. He really knows how to take his time, doesn't he?”

“This was on purpose,” she said, refusing to move from her own seat. Let him come to them. He could hardly avoid that when he had made them wait this long.

“Of course it was. He _is_ overbearing. It comes of being the first.”

For the moment, all their previous tensions and feuds were forgotten – Isley was not quite a common enemy, but when facing him, they were a little closer to a united front. Luciela could appreciate that, even if she couldn't quite trust such a fragile bond to last. If they did someday unite to beat back Isley, or even kill him... well then, Riful would remember that she was older and wiser and utterly deserving of more than a partnership of equals – and Luciela would be exactly back where she had started.

If she had Rafaela with her... that thought always came with a distant pang of longing and regret. If only they had awakened together. Nothing and no one would have troubled them, then.

Perhaps she ended up looking a little too wistful, for Riful glanced at her – but then Isley entered the room, the sharp weight of his yoki conspicuously absent. Luciela took her time in rising from her chair, and smiled, as if the three of them were all old friends. Unfortunately, Isley was just as used to such games, and didn't show even a flicker of hesitation or anger as he smiled back.

“What a surprise, to have both of you visit my territory at once. Truly, I'm honoured.”

“Oh, you didn't bring Rigardo with you?” Riful chimed in, arching an eyebrow.

“He's a little too impulsive, when it comes to more... delicate situations,” Isley said smoothly. “And I think our collective company would be a little much for him.” And, deliberately or not, by coming alone he had matched them.

Here and now, they were as equal as they ever would be. “Well, thank you for coming,” she said. “We were quite worried about why you took so long to arrive. Were the snows too heavy for you, perhaps?”

“Or maybe it's old age finally settling in?” Riful asked, falsely concerned. Isley merely tilted his head, haughtily amused, and Luciela felt her temper flare. No, it wasn't worth it to keep score in petty insults, or slowly chip away at each other – that wasn't what they were all here for.

“Regardless,” she continued, composing herself, “we're all here now.”

“Indeed,” he said, still smiling. “Which reminds me, before we begin - congratulations on your title, Luciela. It didn't take too long to earn it, I see.”

“Please, spare me,” she said, eyes narrowing, and finally dropping the brittle cheer she'd been using as her own facade. It wasn't like it was working – and it only encouraged the both of them in turn. Riful, perhaps, she could tolerate, but Isley far less so. “The two of you get worthy titles – and I'm the Failed Experiment.”

“Take pleasure in it,” Isley said lightly. “Your awakening must have hurt them the most, and this is how they show their bitterness. It's a victory.”

“Men are such simple, uncomplicated creatures, aren't they?” Luciela asked Riful, rather than deigning to acknowledge the implicit compliment. She got one of those almost unnervingly childlike giggles in response.

“Yes, exactly. I'd like to return to my simple, uncomplicated life as soon as possible, so can you get to the point of this? You two have done everything but call my name at my own borders, you know.”

“It's your fault for taking so long.”

“You fed at one of my villages,” he said, aggrieved.

“You can have the rest, if you like.”

“And have your leftovers?” He was the picture of injured pride, but then his eyes hardened and she felt the brief chill of his yoki, carefully held back. “The point of this, Luciela.”

She swallowed hard. She hadn't asked this lightly, but this all hinged on the three of them being able to tolerate each other. So much power wasn't meant to exist, not in such close quarters. “What are we _doing_?” she asked. “Is this what you've awakened for? To sit in your lands forever? We're the strongest Awakened Beings to exist – but all of that strength, and we only use it to _eat_.”

“And what would you have us do instead?” Riful said, propping her chin on her hand.

“The three of us are stronger than all of the Organization's warriors together,” she said tensely. “They used us, treated us like weapons and abandoned us when we wanted something for our own sakes. We could strike at them before they finally try to hunt us down.” And buried in that was another, smaller wish, which she didn't dare speak aloud.

“And why would they do that? We leave them alone and they do the same,” Isley said.

“Will that last forever? You said it yourself – I'm the third Abyssal One. They might lose more of their Number Ones, eventually. They're already outmatched.”

“But then there won't be anyone else like us,” Riful said with a sigh.

“There are enough Awakened Beings already, aren't there?” That, surprisingly enough, was Isley himself, suddenly thoughtful, and Luciela tensed. She hadn't expected such an opinion from him – and surprises in this company were always dangerous. Riful also fell silent, turning to look at him, though her own expression was carefully watchful. He ignored their scrutiny. “Quite a few of even my generation are still alive, after all. Up to half a generation often ends up awakening... and there have been tens of generations since mine. There are more than enough, in my opinion. We won't want for company for a long time, yet.”

“Unless the Organization becomes more aggressive,” Luciela said, pressing her point. “My sister and I were the first ones to have a synchronized awakening – but we will certainly not be the last. They will keep moving forward, while we... decay.”

It was a goad, and it struck home – Riful straightened up, outwardly thoughtful, while Isley leaned back, studying her. She met their eyes, not backing down, and then he sighed.

“Things change. For them... but also for us. We should wait a little longer. It will take them years to train up another set of twins, or whatever else they're planning. In that time... there will be more awakenings, more losses for them.”

“Is that it?” she said, holding herself in check.

“Things change,” he repeated, and she would have thought he was mocking her, except that the cold, distant look in his eyes had returned, and no shadow of amusement remained. Luciela stifled the urge to clench her hands, to react at all and betray her disappointment. They were older, so assured in their power that it was difficult for them to move beyond their appetites.

No, that wasn't quite true. Her frustration was that they were so much than their hungers – but whatever their goals or ambitions were, they weren't enough for them to act so quickly.

“Well,” Riful said brightly, “I'm still glad we all met like this! It's always so nice to see you, Luciela.”

“And not me?” Isley asked, only for her to pout at him.

“You're entirely too much to deal with, as always. But let's do this again, in a few years!”

“Maybe by then, things will change, hm?” Luciela said, skeptical, but with that, they parted ways, though she couldn't help getting rid of some of the villagers in her path to improve her mood a little.

That promised meeting never came – for a few years later, a cold wind began to blow from the north. It cut to the bone, even in the heat of her territory, and Luciela tasted the river of yoki it stemmed from. It was powerful, for how distant it was. Entirely too powerful. Had Teresa finally awakened, to warrant such a strong presence. But from the north....

_Things change_ , Isley had said. Was this what he had meant, what he had been waiting for?

Her awakening had created a precarious balance, as sharp and thin as a blade's edge – and with this, she was sure, it was soon going to tip entirely. She had to be on the right side, when it did.

It was time to go find Riful.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahahaha and suddenly the last chapter took months on end
> 
> the winter and spring were really tough on me buuuut I finally got this done! sorry for the ridiculous wait! I might need to reread claymore again before I write anything else for it but this still was a fun ride and I'm... still a sucker for the abyssal ones, whoops.

**Author's Note:**

> my first attempt at a chaptered work in a while! I've got ideas for more claymore stuff as I go on, but this will be my first focus. pacing's still my biggest problem, so this should be a good way to try to break out of that.
> 
> (can you tell I like the abyssal ones a lot whoops)


End file.
